Go, Go, My Champion
by Son Rhandi
Summary: Hearing from Herr Blocken, Jr. this time around as he expresses his joy in Jade's victory in the Chôjin World Grand Prix (Ikeman Chôjin Crown) preliminaries.


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Disclaimer:** I'm 18, unemployed, and have less than $300 stashed away after a year of working for $6.65 an hour. What makes you think I can afford to own any of this Kinnikuman Nisei/Ultimate Muscle goodness?

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Go, Go, My Champion

**By Son Rhandi **

Blocken's heart fluttered when heard the announcement. The Chôjin Olympics… The Chôjin Olympics were being revived! Though Harabote's golden boy, Ikeman, had renamed it the Chôjin World Grand Prix, in his heart, it was still the same tournament. His boy, Jade, was pumped for it, also. He hopped the first ship to Earth to return to his native Germany and meet with his Herr Blocken, happy to see him as always. The memories still pain him, that old man, only being able to look on as his father, Blocken Man, was ripped in two by Camel Clutch, a move courtesy of Ramen Man. When he was older, stronger, he entered the next Olympics, set on avenging his father's death in the ring. That, too, was taken away from him from the man from China mountains.

Here, in this time, the Blocken family was given another chance for greatness lying in the abilities of the Gen-EXer, Jade. Blocken, Jr. rocked back and forth in his wooden chair with verb attached, flipping the pages of a spiral-bound book, his old scrap book from the days when the Legends ruled, back when he was in his prime. The album was filled with photos and newspaper clippings of the Muscle League's many triumphs. He missed those days, that time when he was strong as an ox, that time when he felt he could conquer Heaven…

The old man felt a tear roll down his cheek, gliding along his wrinkles. His regrets and sorrows were still present, but the burden of their load had been lifted a bit by the company of the young man, Jade. A few more photos were added to the book only a few days ago, none of which had anything to do with the old man's past career. Just a few of himself--taken by his boy--and the two of them together. One in particular he enjoyed was from their fishing trip on Jade's last visit. Jade caught a black bass and Herr Blocken a black boot… 

He would have killed himself years ago, he knew, had the boy not appeared one day, a boy that was his to begin with. It was only recently that they forged the beginnings of a father-son relationship, but Blocken couldn't have asked for more. The night growing late and his lager warm, Blocken decided it was time to retire. Tomorrow would be a big day for the duo-- The Chôjin World Grand Prix was upon them. Slowing rising from the chair--a thing that became more difficult with each passing year--Blocken went upstairs to retire. As he passed Jade's room, an indescribable noise blared all of a sudden, causing the old man to fall over in surprise and fright. Only when his heart regained its natural rhythm did he realize it was a din he'd heard on numerous occasions. 

"Jade!!" He banged on the door. What was he doing up so late, blaring music, yet? "Jade, turn off that racket!! It's half past midnight! Go to bed!!"

No answer, still 'music'. Obviously getting nowhere with the banging and screaming, the old man turned the knob and barged in, a head-banging Jade with back to the door left to his discovery. The young man seemed to be having a night of his one-man mosh to the discord he called 'music'. Exasperated, Blocken stepped to the stereo and yanked out its cord. About 4 or 5 seconds of further jumping about passed before Jade noticed the music had stopped. He turned around, finding a straight-faced Blocken with one hand on his hip and the other holding the stereo's plug.

"Jade, it's past midnight. Why are you scaring your poor Papa half to death with all this commotion?"

The young man put a hand on his head, feeling rather sheepish. "Forgive me, _mein Herr. _I'm just excited about tomorrow, is all. I couldn't sleep."

"Hmph. 'Excited' isn't the word for it…" He took a seat on his son's bed, motion for the boy to come and sit beside. "My boy, it's been many, many years since we've had this tournament. I entered when I was your age, a little older, maybe… I told you about that, didn't I?"

Jade nodded. "This is good. I wish I could participate, but my body just isn't what it was……" Blocken trailed off, cracking his back. "That's the way it works when you grow old…"

The green-clad lad furrowed his brow. He hated hearing his father talk like that. "Well anyway," the old man continued. "I don't care if you win the tournament. Just do your best and fight with all your heart."

"_Ja, mein Herr._ I'll wrestle with all my strength."

"Good boy." Blocken ruffled the young man's hair. "Tomorrow's a big day and you need your rest. To bed now, _ja_? I'll see you in the morning. Good night."

"Good night, _mein_ Papa."

Blocken exited, closing the door behind him. He leaned against it, breathing a deep sigh and looking to the ceiling. _Please, my God… Lighten this old man's heart and lend the boy some strength for victory. Ease the pain in the Blockens' hearts…_

  


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"JADE!! JADE!!

"HOFFMAN!! HOFFMAN!!"

Jade got his opponent's arm in a triangle scissor lock. The crowed favored his dog-faced opponent, but Jade was not without his supporters. Blocken was right at ringside, silently cheering for his son to emerge victorious in this final match to determine Germany's representative in the Grand Prix. One more win… All he had to do was trounce this beast to win the title…

That Hoffman hound dwarfed the Blocken boy, towering over him and being twice his girth, easily. "Jade, you are the weakest!" He barked. "You haven't fully healed from the match with Scarface, _ja_ ?" The beast lifted his beefy arm and Jade with it, then tossed the green-clad lad to up to the sky so blue, figuring he would land outside of the ring. Such overconfidence… As Jade plummeted back toward the ring and back behind Hoffman, he summoned his family's signature move.

"Red Rain of Berlin!!"

Well, that old beast groaned in pain, the searing hot hand of Jade, piercing his back, its power burning right through and coming out a steaming hole through his chest. He fell over, that dog face, knocked out cold. Jade threw clenched fists to the sky, roaring to assert himself over the vanquished. His fans roared right back, cheering their love for him and his achievement. Blocken, Jr. could hardly contain himself. He stepped into the ring and threw his arms around his son, his eyes threatening to overflow with tears of happiness.

Jade, mein kinder! I'm so proud of you! Look at you! You're going on to represent Germany, our Fatherland! You are what I and my father could never become, a champion! …I want to be with you through it all, my boy. Even if you lose a match, if you fought with all your might, you'd still be my hero. Thank you, son. Thank you…

He hoped Jade wouldn't notice the sudden moisture on his shirt. His happiness overflowed, after all… 


End file.
